Letters From No One
by IAmHayleyDaughterOfAthena
Summary: Rachel Berry is heartbroken. The girl she has loved for 5 years has left her, and now she is a mess. When she finds a book full of letters from before they got together, will they help heal the scars Quinn has left her with? Sometimes you need to be reminded of your past to get on with your future.


I wake up. I turn on my side and smile. But the smile only lasts a second because I don't see what I want to see. There are only crumpled sheets and a pillow where a head should be resting. Quinn's head. Her perfect, blonde head. All the memories of yesterday's series of events hit me suddenly and I feel like crying- like curling up into a small ball and weeping. I almost do. Instead, I take a deep breath and sit up. My hands creep up to my neck and I run my fingers through my hair, pulling softly through knots and tangles at first, but then getting more irritated as they keep coming. I pull my fingers out of my hair aggressively, and clench my fists.

Getting out of bed, I pull on my dressing gown, which had been laying on my bed, and make my way to the kitchen. I put on the kettle and go to take a mug out of the cupboard. My breath catches when I see Quinn's mug. The mug she would always use, and was reluctant for anyone else to drink from it. She must have left it when she left last night. It had an image of a crown on it, and the words: "You'll always be my princess" in cursive font. I had given it to her after she lost prom Queen to Kurt. I take a plain white mug from the back of the shelf and shut the cupboard door quickly.

As I finish making my coffee, I sit down on my couch and reach for my phone, which had been laying there all night. I bite my lip at the background picture. Quinn. I go to settings and change it back to a picture of my dog and then put my phone down. I don't even know why I picked it up. Out of habit, I guess. I lay on my couch, the heat of the mug warming up my hand. I am not sure how I am supposed to feel. Heartbroken, obviously. And I am. More than I care to admit. But other than that, how _do _I feel towards my ex-girlfriend? I should feel angry. I did last night. But now all I feel is numb, like I've lost a limb - a limb I can live without for a little while but will eventually be the end of me.

The more I think about how I should be angry, the angrier I get. Getting up, I stomp my way to my room. I stand in the doorway for a second, looking around. I see the photo - it's on my desk - the one of Quinn kissing my cheek, a smile on both our faces. It's in a silver and purple frame. I walk over to it and pick it up. Everything she did to me comes rushing back: her breaking my heart; how she watched as I shattered, and didn't hesitate once while she burned me with her words. It was then that she left, just because it was easier... easier for her. I hold the frame high and it comes crashing down on the floor as I let go of it. The glass shatters, and the photo is scratched. For a second I wonder whether I regret it. I realize I don't. At least not yet.

It gives me power. And I search through my desk, pulling out everything that reminds me of her. Things she's given me, stuff she's left behind. I throw it out, not caring where it lands. Countless photos, notes, and jewellery that crumble my heart as I see them. I open the third drawer and take out a rectangular box, ready to throw it on the floor with the rest of my possessions. But something about it makes me stop. All my anger leaves me. I don't even remember what it is, but there is a feeling that comes with the box that sends shivers through my spine. I walk backwards to my bed, sitting when I feel it behind me. I look at the box for a second. It is made of wood, patterns carved into it. I open it cautiously, as if there is something dangerous inside.

When the lid is off, I find myself peering down at a small notebook. At first I don't know what it is, so I open it, reading the first line. I gasp in realization. I hadn't read it or written in it in ages. So many memories and feelings hit me as I read it. I check the date. Five years ago, almost to the day. All my thoughts and feelings concerning the one person in the world who I loved more than anything. Quinn Lucy Fabray. Letters that stayed unread by everyone but me.

_27/02/2008- Wednesday_

_Dear Quinn,_

_I know you don't know much about me. You know I love to sing, am in the glee club and I am a bit obsessed by my future. I know a lot more about you than you might think. I know that you are a transfer student, and your name used to be Lucy. You used to have orange hair, and you had low self esteem. I know you love to dance, and I know you have an amazing voice. You see, I have a crush on you. Well, it's more than a crush. I am in love with you. Everything about you. Your hair, your voice, your eyes. It's all perfect. I remember the first time I met you. It was in the library. I was sitting with Kurt, making origami for the school play. You were the new girl. It was your first day and you were in my class, so I knew your name. Suddenly you walked up to me and sat on the desk I was working at._

"_What are you doing?" You asked, your eyes wide, and your smile warm. I fidgeted._

"_Making origami flowers." I said, holding one up to show you._

"_That's so beautiful! How did you learn to do that?" You seemed genuinely interested and I blushed._

"_Um, a boy taught me." It was Kurt, who was right next to me, but I didn't say it was him, I knew he already got teased for his sexuality._

"_Ooh, a boy. Was he hot?" You winked and then, before I could answer, you were called away by some of the cheerleaders. I watched you go, a half smile on my face. That was the first time we ever had a conversation._

_By the end of that week, I knew what I felt was more than friendship. I also knew that you hardly know I exist._

_Maybe one day you will notice me._

_Love, Rachel._

I feel my heartbeat in my throat, growing faster. I swallow it down and close the book. There are many other entries, but that's all I can deal with right now. I remember how lost I felt back then, hopelessly in love with a girl for the first time. Hopelessly in love with anyone for the first time. I remember thinking how impossible it seemed that Quinn would ever think of me as anything more than a classroom friend. Now I wish she were even that.

I place the book gently back inside the box and close the box, putting it beside me and sighing. I know the next couple of months won't be easy, but I can get through them. I have to.


End file.
